


Fear No Fate

by BlackDog_66



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-26 09:52:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5000260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackDog_66/pseuds/BlackDog_66
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life was a fickle thing, Lewis knew this, had lived through it twice already and he saw it every day at work. He wasn’t sure if he could live through a third time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fear No Fate

**Author's Note:**

> A big thanks to toomerrymaiden on LJ for the quick and amazing beta. Any remaining mistakes you find are mine.
> 
> The quotes you will find obviously do not belong to me, they belong to Charles Dickens and the characters belong to ITV

* * *

 

**Fear No Fate**

 

Life was a fickle thing, Lewis knew this, had lived through it twice already and he saw it every day at work. He wasn’t sure if he could live through a third time.

It was a hard concept to grasp; why it happened to the people he loved, to people close to him, but never to him. He was old, had lived a long and satisfying life. And with his two children and his grandchild there was something of him that would live on. Yet, he was the one who was safe, protected by a bullet proof vest and standing at the side lines, while it was his young Sergeant who was literally in the line of fire.

Lewis knew that in part he was responsible for this situation. If he had trusted more in his James’ gut feeling then maybe this all could have been avoided. But could have beens had never helped and they would resolve nothing now. The only thing it was good for was the added guilt he felt. And that was already holding his stomach in a vice-grip, together with a deep seated fear for James’ life.

To make it even worse, he didn’t even know how James was doing at the moment. All he saw was the closed door to the house his Sergeant was currently held hostage in.

The last life sign he actually had from James was an aborted call that had sent Lewis’ heart racing and had him call the Armed Response Team. Because the call had been interrupted by a gunshot, breaking up the line with a sudden and definitive ending and all attempts to reach James’ phone afterwards had been in vain.

To add to the misery, the man taking James hostage was not unkown to Robbie. It was an old friend of Val’s, which probably was one of the reasons why Lewis hadn’t wanted him to be guilty in the first place. Telling him that his wife had been killed had been bad enough, had torn open old wounds Robbie had believed long healed. Suspecting him of murdering his wife had been unacceptable at that time.

But James had not been so sure, had felt uneasy about and around Michael Hayes. Although he couldn’t quite explain it and that had not only caused friction between them, but also an outright argument. That alone was incredibly rare and it only worsened Lewis’ remorse.

He’d been biased and he had let it cloud his judgment even though he’d told Innocent that that wouldn’t happen, that he could investigate Sonia Hayes death like any other. James had seen right through him, had called him on it and all Robbie had done was to bring up James’ own personal involvement in old cases. Cases from which Robbie should have removed him but didn’t, so he should trust his governor not to make the same mistakes.

Robbie had seen the hurt and disappointment in James’ face at that comment, just for a second, before his Sergeant had put on a blank mask and had retreated into himself and back from Robbie with a forced ‘Yes, sir.’

God, he was such a hypocrite.

He had made the same mistakes as James had, age and experience gone because he was faced with an old friend of Val’s. Someone he’d only been in sporadic contact with over the years, yet he’d trusted Hayes more than he’d trusted James. And this hurt, because he should have known better and because of this he might lose the best thing that had happened to him in the past few years. Not just the friendship, but maybe the whole person.

That was just not fair. And Robbie wanted to rage against it, wanted to storm into the house and shake some sense into Hayes and wanted to apologize to James for being so stupid. But he couldn’t do any of that. He felt impotent and useless, forced to the side-lines while the ART discussed the best strategy.

He stood just outside the ARTs big video van, one eye on the armed and masked men inside, the other on the street and the simple dark brown door to Michael Hayes’ home. The complete area had been locked off, police cars making a barrier in front of the house, protecting the officers behind them from any possible stray bullets. Anything to protect them and absolutely nothing to protect James.

Just when Lewis couldn’t help himself bit to step in and demand that the ART would finally do their job instead of just talking, Hayes’ front door opened. Robbie’s head swivelled around, hope rising in him. Maybe this was Hathaway, stepping out – whole and hale – and declaring the whole thing over. But instead of his lanky Sergeant a small frame pushed herself out of the gap. The second she was through the door the young woman ran and halfway across the street police officers grabbed her and pulled her behind the cars and to safety.

Lewis immediately went to her, he knew the young woman, had watched her grow up together with his Lyn. It was Jenny Hayes, Michael’s only daughter and up until now he hadn’t even known that she also had been in the house.

Without thinking much about it, Robbie pulled her into his arms, held her tight as her tears soaked through the collar of his shirt. He was still a father after all, saw this young woman as a grieving child and simply needed to protect her from the world for at least a short time.

But there was only so much comfort he could give her before he needed to ask questions. Because he needed to know what was happening inside and, more importantly, he needed to know how James was.

“Jenny, lass, how are you?” he asked, slowly drawing her away from his shoulder and turning her to face him. He could feel her shoulders shaking underneath his hands, tear tracks clear down her cheeks and her mascara a black mess around her eyes.

“Dad… he just snapped. I don’t know why. He just pulled a gun on me,” another sob tore free, “God, he shot your Sergeant. He’s just went crazy, I don’t even know why.” And with that she dissolved into tears again.

Lewis closed his eyes at the news; let it sink in as his fear rose. He couldn’t lose James, not like this, not when their last words had been spoken in anger. But he knew that none of that mattered when fate had other plans. He had wanted to say goodbye to Morse, had wanted to say one last I love you to Val, but he had been unable to do either. He just hoped that he would be able to apologize to his Sergeant.

Soon enough the paramedics gave Jenny something to calm her down, wrapped her up in a garish orange shock blanket and led her to into the back of an ambulance. They gently guided her to sit down on the stretcher, where she remained, impassive and staring lost and scared into space, while Robbie sat on the jump seat opposite her.

Innocent had also arrived and was leaning against the open doors, anxious to hear her story and how her officer was doing. Robbie knew that she liked James, despite the continuous moaning about their actions and their facetiousness. They’d worked hard to get where they were and sometimes you had to step on toes, Innocent not only understood that, she also backed them up.

Robbie hated to put undue pressure on Jenny, but already too much time had passed and he needed to get answers to his questions. Because the sooner they knew what was happening inside the Hayes’ household, the sooner they could act and rescue James.  So he leant forward, placed a reassuring hand on her knee and asked, “Can you tell us what happened? Please.”

Jenny nodded shakily and then haltingly started to recount what had happened. And it didn’t exactly make for a nice story.

+++                                                                                            

It had taken James some time to calm down, time in which he had driven aimlessly along Oxford’s streets. Lewis’ attitude toward the case and toward Michael Hayes was vexing, but what had really riled him had been the argument they had before James had stormed out of their shared office. Lewis had been adamant that Hayes was innocent of his wife’s murder, repeating that he knew the man after all.

But James was not so sure about that and he knew what kind of disastrous consequences it could cause when you were personally involved in a case. James knew this intimately, had nearly screwed up cases because of this – as Lewis had bluntly pointed out. And that stung. He had trusted in Lewis not to hold these transgressions against him, yet the older man had thrown it in his face when he was as biased now as James had been back then.

He’d tried to calmly present his theories that Sonia was heavily in debt. She had several credit and debit cards, all far into the red numbers and James had found numerous bills from clothing stores and shoe stores all painting a clear picture. Sonia was a shopaholic.

The second he had voiced that thought though, Lewis had scoffed, saying that he knew all kind of holics, alcoholics and workaholics, but no shopaholics – that sounded made up. James, however, had come prepared, had shown him an article from Wikipedia and then had continued on. The heavy debts were putting a strain on the Hayes financial situation and that Michael had blocked Sonia from using their shared account. There was something he was not telling the detectives and James wanted to find out what it was and whether or not it was enough of a reason for him to kill his wife.

That may have been too much, too soon, James realized that now, but Lewis’ reaction had been too strong as well. They hadn’t exactly gotten into a shouting match, not like the case with Zoe Kenneth, but it had been a near thing.

And Robbie had opened old wounds. James had tried to pull up his mask of indifference, made his face as blank as possible to not show how much Lewis’ words had stung, because he knew that his governor was not thinking straight and had walked out of the door. Sometimes silent retreat was better than saying what was on his mind, because it would lead them nowhere. Instead he knew what he had to do and that was to go on with the investigation, whether it would support his theory or not. He could always apologize to Lewis afterwards.

So once he’d calmed down, he’d driven to Hayes’ home, determined to ask some questions and get some answers.

Hayes had been nervous when James had rung the door bell, but he had led him inside anyway. It was a difficult situation for James. He had to be subtle, because he didn’t want to burn any bridges for Lewis. The Inspector had few friends and he knew that the tenuous connection to Val had been as precious as it had been hurtful. If Hayes really was innocent – and James hoped that, despite his suspicions – Lewis could connect with him and maybe remember the good times with his own wife. Yet he also knew that if Hayes had killed his wife then Lewis would be the last one to say there should be any leniency.

He couldn’t prove anything yet, though, all he had were his suspicions and a lot of bills.

So he sat down in the single leather armchair, trying to create some space between him and Hayes. He needed to see the other man as a possible suspect, not as a friend of Lewis and that was making it all very hard to stay unbiased. But he had sworn to never let personal feelings get in the way again and he owed it to Lewis to be the neutral investigator, to hopefully resolve this case without too many hurt feelings and without any broken trusts.

On the far end of the couch sat Jenny Hayes, Michael and Sonia’s only daughter. Lyn had grown up with her and the two apparently had been best friends, so indirectly he also owed it to Lyn to resolve this case as quickly and as painlessly as possible.

“Mr Hayes, I’m sorry to disturb you again, but I have some questions that you can hopefully answer.” James said.

Hayes nodded. The man still appeared a bit shell shocked, his face was pale and there were dark shadows underneath his eyes. His daughter didn’t look any better, except that her eyes were also red and swollen from crying.

“Your wife had a lot of debit cards from different banks; all of them were in the red. Do you know anything about that?” James already knew the answer to that question, but he would be able to judge how truthful Hayes would be with the following answers by that reply.

The other man twitched, it was a barely discernible movement, but it had been there nonetheless, and James had seen it. It was a telltale sign on its own and it didn’t point to anything good.

“No, I don’t know anything about that,” Hayes replied after a few more seconds.

James nearly sighed, he had feared that Hayes would lie, but some small part of him had hoped that he wouldn’t. Because as much as he disliked being wrong, in this case he had hoped that he would be. It would be disheartening to Lewis; investigations where men murdered their own wife’s were always hard on the older man, who had loved his own wife so very much and who was still broken over her death.

“You don’t know anything about your wife’s debts or the shopping habit that she had?”

Another shake of the head, then half way through Hayes seemed to rethink his action and started nodding instead. “Not of the debts, no, but she liked to shop. She had so many dresses upstairs; I don’t know when she wanted to wear them all.”

That, at least, was something James believed. No one needed that much clothing, but that was beside the point and maybe even an attempt to deflect from the previous line of questioning.

“What about the debts? They were clearly impacting on your finances, or was there another reason why you blocked her access to your account?” No subtleties left now, because James had to get to the bottom of this. The more nervous Hayes got, the surer James became about his involvement and he knew that he had to act fast to finish the case.

Hayes opened his mouth once or twice to answer, but no words came.

Instead James pocket began to vibrate and seconds later his ring tone broke through the uncomfortable silence. He wanted to curse; this was the worst time for his phone to ring. It ruined the moment, but James had to answer. It could be important, after all.

He stood, fished his cell phone from his pocket and warily eyed the display, while Hayes excused himself to get some tea. James nodded absentmindedly and just barely realized that the other man left the room, because Lewis was calling. The Inspector probably wanted to know where his Sergeant was. James had just left the office without telling anybody about where he was going. This was the exact wrong thing to do, he knew that this was a rookie mistake, but he had been too angry to think and he didn’t want to let anyone else in on his and Lewis current misunderstanding about their case.

Lewis would not be happy about where he was, but that couldn’t be helped and in any case it was too late now. He accepted the call with a sigh and a ‘Hathaway’.

“Where are you, man?” was the immediate reply and there was no way around answering that question.

Out of the corner of his eyes James saw Hayes coming back into the living room and he instinctively looked up. The moment he realized what exactly he was seeing, James froze, phone pressed to his ear, halfway turned toward the kitchen door and hip twisted awkwardly.

Hayes was pointing a gun at him, most likely the very same gun he had used to kill his own wife, and James didn’t know what to do.

“Mr Hayes,” he started, but didn’t get any further, because the shaking gun in the other man’s hand went off. The shot echoed through the small room and a second later fire burned its way through his shoulder. He felt the punch of the hit and the pain spread inwards, just as the first drops of blood slowly soaked into his shirt. Nausea churned in his stomach and his knees started to tremble and then he crumbled to the ground, his legs unable to hold him up anymore.

He still had his phone clenched tightly in his hand and he heard Lewis’s voice tinny and fading through the speaker as the ceiling above him wavered and became blurry before it disappeared completely

+++

Robbie had always believed that you could create your own fate; he had never believed in an all-knowing God that guided your life and destiny. And whatever little belief he’d had had been lost years ago. Yet he found himself praying, wishing for His benevolence in James’ fate. Because he had no influence on it, all he could do was stare at the door. He had never felt so helpless.

 Jenny had told them haltingly what had happened, how her father had shot James, how his Sergeant had lain there, bleeding and in pain, and yet he still had managed to talk Michael into letting his daughter go. He was so incredibly proud of the lad, yet his fear rose with Jenny’s recollection and the knowledge that he was still inside with an armed man, who had already killed and who seemed more than ready to do it again.

 He felt so stupid for letting his own personal feelings get in the way of the investigation. He’d been blinded by Val’s connection to the Hayes’ family, couldn’t and probably even wouldn’t see that his old friend had been capable of killing his own wife. That was something Robbie could never comprehend. He had loved his wife too much to ever lay a hand on her and no problem had been too big for them to solve together.

Seeing other families break apart because of seemingly solvable problems always made his heart heavy and his faith in humanity sink. And it was even worse when innocents were caught in the crossfire.

Just like it was happening now, as Lewis anxiously watched the ART discuss how to best storm the house. Now that the only civilian was safe and they had a better idea as to the layout, their plans became more solid. Lewis’ biggest concern was that whatever plan they were concocting didn’t put James in more danger. While the armed response team was, luckily, rarely needed, whenever they were deployed the situation was dire and more often than not it ended with blood loss and death. And as much as he disliked Michael right now, he also didn’t want to see the other man hurt, much less killed. His daughter had already suffered through so much, would suffer through more, but at least her father would still be alive.

The squad team geared up quickly and efficiently and soon the first officers made their way through the neighbors’ gardens and into Hayes’ backyard.

A mere few hours ago Robbie had been glad to see the back of Hathaway as he left the room, now he would give just about anything to see the other man again, standing –preferably – but sitting would do too. Alive of course, even if he already knew that he’d been hurt.

Waiting those last few minutes until the ART would storm the house was near excruciating and Lewis could feel his heart beat in his throat. But before anything like that could actually happen, the door to Hayes’ home opened again and this time the man himself stepped out, arms raised above his head and unarmed.

His heartbeat stumbled at the sight. Relief was fighting with dread as he watched the armed officers drag Hayes to his knees and cuff him. The front door was wide open behind them, but his Sergeant wasn’t there, hadn’t followed Hayes out and Robbie was scared. Scared of what he would find once he stepped inside that house, scared to realize that fate might again has other plans for him and might have taken another life from him.

Yet his legs involuntarily and unerringly took him toward the door, he had to find out what was behind it, one way or another because it would shape his future.

Out of the corner of his eye, Robbie saw the paramedics rush by with a stretcher between them and seconds later they disappeared through the door, he followed numbly.

Inside, the rooms were clean, much the same as they had been when he had been in them last, three days ago to tell Hayes about the death of his wife. He had expected more of a mess - after everything that had happened the room should be in more disorder.

But the only disturbance were the medics who worked frantically over a too still Hathaway.

With a sigh Robbie knelt down beside James. An oxygen mask was obscuring half of Hathaway’s too pale face and small specks of red had already stained the inside of the plastic. Blood covered nearly all of Hathaway’s upper body, more already soaking through the square of bandage on the right side of his chest.

It was too much blood and he had already bled for far too long and Robbie felt guilty about that. What if’s and could have’s raced through his mind. Even if he hadn’t believed in James theory, he could have at least supported his Sergeant. That was what a good governor did; support and instruct the officers he worked with, not berate them. So Robbie berated himself, blamed himself, because he should have stayed with the lad. Maybe then he could have prevented this. In the end it didn’t matter, Lewis could think about possible scenarios as much as he wanted, it still wouldn’t change a thing.

All he could do now was swear to be better, to stay by his Sergeant’s side for as long as they would let him. And then see him though his recovery. Robbie had to believe in that.

“Oh lad,” Robbie whispered forlornly and placed a hand on the other man’s cold and clammy forehead. It seemed like the only save place to touch his Sergeant and he wanted James to know that he wasn’t alone anymore, that there was a friendly face amongst the chaos.

Blue eyes fluttered open, but they were glazed over and couldn’t focus on anything. James visibly struggled to keep his eyes open, lids flickering heavily, but it seemed like a monumental task. Again Robbie wished that he could help James, he would change places in a second if he could. The only thing he could offer were words and he hoped that they would be enough.

“I’m here, James. You’ll be okay,” he muttered, quietly and only for James’ ears, although Robbie wasn’t even sure if Hathaway heard or understood him.  But when their gazes met for a second and James eyes focused on him, Robbie was confident that he had been heard. He tried to look as reassuring and calm as he could, tried to keep James’ gaze for as long as possible but all too soon, James eyes slipped closed again and this time they stayed that way.

It was a small sign of life and it gave Robbie hope.

Hope that he desperately needed, because the medics looked worried and their fast pace didn’t ease his troubled mind.

He trailed behind the stretcher, watching James’ unmoving feet in front of him and tried to think of things to say so that he could stay with him. There was no way that he would leave James again, not so soon after he got him back.

However, he didn’t even need to ask.

One medic stayed in the back with James while the other stepped out and, as he closed the ambulance doors, he half turned to Lewis, “You can take the passenger seat.”

“Thank you,” Robbie replied and he was grateful that the paramedics were probably well versed in stubborn patients and their worried family and friends. He ran along the ambulance side and heaved himself inside, knowing that time was of essence and that he didn’t want to waste any more of it.

He would have never declined the offer to drive along, but somewhere in these short minutes Robbie did though about it; wondered if it wouldn’t have been better for his own state of mind to not know just how dire it all would become. Because the drive, as short as it was, turned into an absolute nightmare for Robbie as he had to watch helplessly on as fate did its worst and tried to take James away from him.

Seven minutes from the A&E James stopped breathing. Two minutes later his heart also gave up the fight and all Robbie could do was watch as the medic frantically struggled to save James’ life.

Lewis wanted to be anywhere but here, didn’t want to watch but couldn’t look away either. It was his worst nightmare come true; he had already lost too many people and he wasn’t sure if he could endure seeing his best friend die right in front of him.

They arrived at the Radcliffe’s A&E with lights flashing, the siren wailing and James unresponsive and lifeless in the back.

Robbie felt sick.

He stumbled out of the ambulance and into the organized chaos of the A&E in the middle of the week, his eyes glued to James’ stretcher and the medic’s heaving back as he knelt over Hathaway and pounded on his chest, desperately trying to restart a still heart.

+++

Drawn features and an exhausted complexion looked back at him as his face was weakly reflected in the glass in front of him. He felt like he had aged years in just a few hours and it showed.

“You don’t have to do this, Robbie,” Innocent said, her words carefully chosen. She looked tired, the thin lines around her eyes and mouth seemingly deeper; the whole ordeal had taken a toll on her too. And the dim light in the small anteroom was not helping.

Lewis’ shoulders slumped. He may not have to do it, but he owed it to James to see it through. “No ma’am. I have to.”

She sighed but didn’t say anything else, there wasn’t more to say anyway. His mind had been made up and nothing could change it, no matter how often she had tried to. Unless she made it a direct order, Robbie would finish this. It had been his case, his responsibility, his sergeant.

Her sympathetic gaze followed him as he stepped out of the anteroom and into the hallway. He didn’t want or need her sympathy. What he needed was the strength to make it through the next few minutes.

He took a deep breath of recycled air, trying to steel himself as best as he could and to harden himself for the sight. But he also knew that it could never be enough.

The room Lewis stepped into was so much lighter than the small anteroom, even a bit brighter than the hallway and it was warm. The air felt much staler than anywhere else in the building although it was the same air conditioning that was ventilating this windowless room. It probably was just imagination, brought on by the desperation and helplessness that was usually present.

When he had stepped inside, the sunken body on the other side of the table looked up, fear and hope mixing in dark eyes.

“Robbie,” Hayes began, his gaze following Lewis as the Inspector sat down opposite him. Instead of answering the plea, Lewis let the silence stretch for a bit and stared at his old friend, trying to find the differences the years had carved and committing them to memory. It would do him no good seeing his friend in front of him. He needed to see a murderer.

“Where did you get the gun?” Lewis finally asked, his gaze never leaving Michael’s face. The other man seemed to slump back down again, making himself smaller.

“I bought it illegally for Sonia years ago. I know it was wrong, but there where so many robberies in our neighbourhood and I just wanted to be able to protect us.”

Robbie knew of the break-ins, they had come up in the initial investigation, when it looked like Sonia had been a victim of a random robbery gone wrong, one of so many that had happened lately in this part of Oxford.

“Is this were you got the idea to hide Sonia’s murder behind a robbery?”

“I panicked, I didn’t know what do to, so I just took everything I could and ran. I did not mean to shoot her,” Michael replied, his eyes near pleading with Robbie to believe him.

But he had lost any kind of sympathy for the other man. “Why did you shoot her, Michael?”

“It was an accident, I swear. I just wanted her to stop. She had this whole room full of clothing she had never worn, unused shoes and so many bags and she still bought more and more. She had so many debit cards, I lost count of them. And she spent our savings on it all, savings we wanted to use together to go travelling once we were both retired.”

 “So you decided to stop her?” Lewis asked, silently and resigned. He had heard so many motives for countless murders that after a time they all sounded like flimsy excuses. 

“It’s not like that, I tried to help her. I tried it for years, but all this shopping, it was how she dealt with Val’s death. While you went away to the Islands, Sonia went shopping and I just couldn’t help her see reason.”

His eyes closed involuntarily and there was a stab of pain in his chest, it was the same feeling he always got when someone spoke about Val. And this was somehow worse, because he knew that Sonia had watched the accident, had been with Val when she died, yet he had forgotten about that. He’d hardly found it in him to care about anybody else but himself in that time. Even his own children had come short in the months after Val’s death and his decline into the bottle.

He knew that he wasn’t responsible for anything that had happened to Sonia, fate had played a large role in it, Robbie was sure. He had been lucky enough to escape his demons with his secondment to the BVI; the distance and the different surroundings had been what he had needed to get back on track. And once, back in Oxford, when the memories of Val had been so fresh again in his mind and soul, he had accepted the help from Laura and James. They had been his support and had helped him to live with Val’s memories, the good and the bad.

He may not be the same person he had been before the accident, but no one had expected him to be.

Sonia clearly hadn’t had the same luck and fate had turned her terror at seeing the accident into an addiction - one that she was unable to fight on her own. Her husband had, apparently, been unable to help either or she just didn’t want any help. And while Robbie did felt sorry for them, for another life that had been ruined by Simon Monkford, it was hard to feel any real sympathy. Because in the end, Michael had given up and had hurt more people in the process.

“You killed her, Michael that was not helping her.”

“I just…” Michael stuttered, sounding desperate, “I didn’t want to shoot her.”

“But you did and then you staged her death and you lied to us, to me and your daughter about it. You should have come clean from the beginning, so much could have been prevented if you had been honest with yourself,” Robbie pointed out.

Michael flinched at the accusation and shook his head, “I know, but I didn’t want you to find out, I couldn’t stand the thought of you knowing that I failed as a husband. And your Sergeant, he was asking all these questions, like he knew what I’d done. And I couldn’t let him tell you, it was supposed to be a warning shot. Just like I’d only wanted to threaten Sonia, I hadn’t meant to kill her.” Silent tears made their way down his cheeks.

In a way Lewis did feel sorry for him, Michael may not had wanted any of this to happen, yet he had only managed to dig himself deeper.

“Yet you took your daughter and my Sergeant hostage, delayed his treatment and scarred Jenny for life.”

“I know that’s what Sergeant Hathaway also said. He talked to me and to Jenny and made me see reason. He’s good man.”

Robbie swallowed. He would probably never know what exactly James had said to make Michael give up, but whatever the words were, he was grateful that James had found them and that Hayes had listened. And he was proud of his Sergeant; the man had grown so much since they had first met. They’d learned so much from each other in the past years, they had become friends and Robbie couldn’t bear to think that this could be the end. James still had so much life to live, so much further to go, to grow into the man Robbie knew he could be. It was hard to imagine that one single, desperate man may have stopped it all from happening.

A knock from the other side of the two way mirror caused Lewis to flinch. It was the prearranged sign to let him know that Laura had called with news from the hospital. There was no more pretending that James was just simply standing in the other room, healthy and hale and listening in on the interview. It was time to face that James might never do that again.

His hands were trembling and Lewis tried his best to hide them from Michael’s view. And while he wanted nothing more than to storm out the room and back to the hospital, he stalled just the same.  Carefully he placed the chair back under the desk again, then buttoned up his jacket. The longer he didn’t know, the longer he could live in denial.

“He is.” Robbie finally replied and deliberately opened the door, only to stop for a second, “If he survives.”

With that he closed the door behind him, leaving Michael hanging and hoping that his own words wouldn’t come true.

+++

Robbie had never been good at waiting. It was a necessary evil with police work and he had come to accept it, had found ways to use the time until the report from SOCO or the pathologist came in. But sitting around waiting to get any news about James condition had been too much for Robbie to bear. Not when he knew a way to use that time more efficiently.

Still, he had waited impatiently for nearly an hour in the A&E waiting room, ignoring Laura’s and Innocent’s increasingly worried looks, until at last a doctor had come out and told them that they had gotten James back and that he was stable enough to be rushed into surgery.

Once he had that bit of information and knew that James was alive for now, nothing had kept him in the hospital. He couldn’t help his Sergeant anyway, at least not while sitting uselessly in a waiting room, but he could help indirectly by closing this case, by getting an official confession from Hayes.

The second there would be any news about James, Laura would call. She had understood his need to do something and she also was the better person to actually speak with the doctors, understanding their medical talk and translating it into easy words.

When she had finally called more than four hours after Robbie had left, he had rushed back to the hospital, Innocent at his side and just as nervous as he had been. Because all Laura had said on the phone was that James was still alive, and that was barely any information at all.

The surgery waiting room was empty except for Laura, who was standing by the window, but who turned around when they entered the room. She attempted a smile, but it looked forced and it didn’t really hold up for a long.

“How is he?” Robbie asked without a hello.

“As I said, alive for now, but he’s in critical condition. He lost a lot of blood and his lung has been hit too,” Laura took a moment to breathe deeply and Robbie knew that whatever news would come was anything but good. “They lost him again on the table and had a hard time getting him back. The doctors are worried that there might be brain damage because of that and the heavy blood loss. He’s in an artificial coma for now, but they’re not sure about any damage until he wakes up, which he might not.”

Lewis felt his knees go weak and he slid down into one of the plastic chairs that lined the wall. In the same move he buried his face in his hands, glad to not see the outside world for a bit. He’d expected the news to be bad, but it still shocked him to the core to actually hear it.

A warm hand came to rest on his shoulder, rubbing in small circles. “I know it doesn’t sound good, Robbie. But you cannot give up hope, it may turn out alright.”

“And how often have we seen that?” Robbie asked dejectedly, his words muffled by his hands.

“Not as often as we should, I know. So maybe we’ll be lucky this time.”

“Can I see him?” Robbie asked, ignoring Laura’s feeble attempts to reassure him.

“Of course you can,” Laura replied and only now did Lewis lift his head from his hands. Of course he could, he was James’ official next of kin after all, had forced the lad to change that little detail in his NHS file when Lewis had found out that this particular space had been left blank. He couldn’t have James injured and him not knowing about it and now it had happened on the job and knowing about it didn’t made things any easier.

“I’ll get a nurse to take you,” Laura said and her hand disappeared from his shoulder.

Robbie let his head fall back against the wall, “Thank you.”

“I’ll have to get back to the station, Robbie. Obviously you can take all the leave you need,” Innocent said, “Call me when there is any news, no matter the time.”

“I will ma’am.”

“Take care of yourself too. I don’t want to lose two detectives.”

Lewis forced a smile, it was Innocent’s way of showing that she did care and she was right, Robbie would all too soon ignore his own needs to watch over James, but then he had Laura to watch out for him.

Thankfully he didn’t have to wait too long until Laura returned with a nurse.

“I’ll go get us something to eat while you are with James and then we can meet up back here,” Laura said and didn’t even wait for his reply before she took off down the corridor.

Lewis knew that he had to eat something, but thinking about James made him lose all his appetite. It was bad enough that he wouldn’t be able to stay long with the lad. It was hospital policy that critical patients could only receive visitors for a few minutes every hour. It was a strict rule and Robbie had hated it from the very first moment he had heard of it.

Silently he followed the nurse along the empty corridor and then through the sealed double doors that led to the ICU. Inside the smell of disinfectant increased and it just felt depressingly like death and desperation. Beds were separated by flimsy walls; the small cubicles that formed had no doors, just barely there curtains that mostly weren’t even drawn, giving him a glimpse of sick people as he passed one room after the other.

“Just five minutes, sir.” The nurse finally stopped at one cubicle close to the nurse’s station. Robbie was torn between wanting to see his Sergeant and not wanting to be here at all.

In the end he forced himself to step into the cubicle. There wasn’t much space in there and what little there was, was taken up by a bank of monitors and drips and the hospital bed. Hathaway looked all too small in that bed, grey and lifeless.

There was no chair by the bedside, nothing that would invite any lingering, so Robbie simply stood as close as possible and watched silently as a machine breathed for James.

 

“You have to wake up again and get better, man. How else can I apologize to you for being such a daft sod meself.”

 

Robbie gently placed his hand on James’ cold forearm, hoping that he would feel it despite the medication running through him and would know that there was someone there to watch over him.

+++

There was something stuck in his throat. It tasted of plastic and while he was able to halfway breathe around it, it felt like it was helping him along, expanding his lungs more than he thought was possible. It didn’t exactly hurt, but it wasn’t really comfortable either. And James wanted it out.

Moving his hands, however, proved to be near impossible. They felt thick and clumsy and hardly moved when he wanted them to. All they did was twitch and James felt helpless at this point. He couldn’t move his hands, couldn’t even really control his breathing and he did know where he was. He was lying on his back in a bed, of that he was sure, but how he managed to get here, James didn’t know. At least he still knew his name, that was something and he clung to it, hoping that the rest of his memories would return with time.

The only good thing that came from his feeble attempts at moving was the warm hand that grasped one of his hands.

“James?” He didn’t recognize the speaker, but it was a soothing, female voice and he knew that he should know it from somewhere. So he tried to return the squeeze the hand that held onto him in return.

“Can you open your eyes?” the woman asked and James had to pause for a second, because he hadn’t even realized that his eyes were still closed. Thinking felt like trudging through knee high mud and he couldn’t concentrate, which was hopefully why nothing was making sense at the moment. So he was not quite sure if he really could or even if he wanted to open his eyes, but the voice sounded so hopeful and James hated to disappoint her, so he tried.

And he failed.

His lids were heavy, far more than they should be and he just barely managed to open them, before he slammed them close again. Bright light was burning in his eyes, awakening a massive headache that burned like ice behind his eyes and continued on deep into his skull.

He must have groaned at the fresh pain, because a second hand joined the first, rubbing soothing circles on his forearm. “It’s okay James, take your time. Robbie would be disappointed anyway if you woke up without him around.”

James had no idea who Robbie was, but it seemed like he’d cared a lot and James thought that it might be a good idea to wait until he was around. Not that the woman wasn’t kind to him, but now his head hurt and he longed for sleep and this really seemed like the best thing he could do.

+++

When he came close to waking up again, the plastic in his mouth was gone and he could vaguely remember the pain of the tube scratching in his throat as it had been pulled out. Breathing felt like much more of an effort than it had before and his chest hurt in retaliation. There was a pressure on his chest, as thought someone was sitting on it and just the simple act of breathing exhausted him. A steady flow of oxygen was rushing up his nose and he could feel something running over his cheeks and itching behind his ears.

At least his head felt clearer, his thoughts not quite so muddled and James preferred this over painlessness. If he could think, then maybe, he could remember why he was here. Because he knew he was in a hospital, that was obvious now by the awful smell of disinfectant, the constant beeping in his ear that was probably his own heartbeat and the simply uncomfortable mattress he was lying on. It wasn’t much to go on, but it was better than nothing and more than he had before.

And just like the last time he was awake, there was someone with him. This time the hand on his forearm was bigger and rougher, but just as warm.

“We went into the house by a side door - the great front entrance had two chains across it outside - and the first thing I noticed was, that the passages were all dark, and that she had left a candle burning there. She took it up, and we went through more passages and up a staircase, and still it was all dark, and only the candle lighted us.”

Someone was reading to him in a soothing and calm voice. It was relaxing and it felt somewhat familiar, so James listened in for a bit, let himself drift in the well-known words and the smooth baritone. It took James only a few minutes until he recognized the book, since Great Expectations by Charles Dickens was one of his favourites and he knew the words by heart once he realized what he was listening to. He’d been reading the book recently too, that he knew, yet he couldn’t remember who was reading to him.

He should remember him, though, why else would the man spent his spare time by his side, reading out loud and obviously waiting for James to wake up. It was terrifying to not know anything but his own name and he felt himself panic at the thought. His heartbeat started to race and the regular beeping that had accompanied every waking moment sped up in response.

Over the loud thudding of his own heart James heard the rustle of a book being put aside and then a chair scraping backwards. The grip on his forearm changed slightly and it was squeezed gently. “James?” it was the same hopeful tone the woman had used.  “Laura says you nearly woke up for her. Think you could actually come around for me?”

He could try to open his eyes again, it couldn’t be much worse than his first attempt and maybe seeing the man would spur his memories.

This time the light was not as bright and, although it still stung in his eyes, his lingering headache didn’t flare up. A blurry figure was standing next to him, but with every slow blink the world around him became clearer. It didn’t however help him to recognize the man; all he could see was greying hair and kind eyes.

“There you are. Good to see you awake.” The man, probably Robbie, said. He sounded relieved and James would have loved to reassure him, tell him that he was alright and that he would be fine, but he just couldn’t remember the man. If there would be a way to change this, James would, because the man was looking at him with so much hope and expectations, yet James had no idea where he knew him from.

“Do you remember what happened?” the man asked and the voice was familiar, felt like home and safety and James was close to placing it. But the more he tried to remember, the more his head hurt. The stabbing pain became sharper and his vision blurred, small flashes appearing in the corner of his eyes.

He squeezed them shut to try to escape the pain, actually attempted to move away from it and that just made everything worse. Because now his chest burned in agony and it was even harder to catch his breath. He vaguely heard the yell for help and then with the pain came the memories.

He saw the man at an airport, looking tired and rumpled from a long flight and then later sitting in a pub, laughing and talking over a pint – Lewis, his governor and friend, how could he forget him? Laura bent over a corpse with a quick quip on her lips and Michael Hayes, standing over him with a gun in his hand.

There were too many memories at once for him to sort through and all the while the pain increased until his whole body was on fire. His breath was stuttering in his throat and over the blaring of alarms he heard footsteps rushing toward and around him.

Coldness spread from his left collarbone down his chest, travelled along his veins and replaced the pain with lethargy. The flashes slowly disappeared behind his closed lids as the blackness closed in and James let himself be washed away with it.

+++

Words woke him up this time. The pain was now a constant reminder, dull and there but not excruciating. There was still an odd pressure on and in his chest, threatening to become actual pain should he dare to move too much and his head was aching. He felt uncomfortable but he could merciful think and that was worth the pain.

There was a soft pressure against his lower leg and he could feel the dip in the mattress where someone was sitting. The constant touch he felt whenever he woke up, or at least came close to waking up, was reassuring. It helped him be aware of where he was and that he wasn’t alone.

“I don’t think he recognized me,” that was Robbie; sounding more dejected than James had heard in a long time.

“As I’ve already told you, brain damage was always a possibility with the hypoxia and the hypovolemia; retrograde amnesia could be a form of it. However we won’t know the extent until Mr Hathaway wakes up completely and we can make an accurate assessment.” The voice was unfamiliar to him, but the man talking sounded severe and serious. The words itself didn’t sound too good either, especially since they were about him. But he didn’t feel brain damaged, maybe a bit clouded by the medication he was on, that would hopefully resolve itself once he was off them.

The figure by his legs shifted and gently padded his ankle, “But that’s the worst case scenario, Robbie. And you know James, his brain is too big to be really damaged,” Laura said, the jest sounded forced and James wanted to reassure them that he was okay, or at least that he would be okay.

“Take nothing on its looks; take everything on evidence. There's no better rule,” James quoted. His own voice sounded rough and it scratched in his throat. But he knew that he had to speak up now and the quote from Great Expectations just seemed to fit and what better way to show them that his brain was still very much intact.

“See, he is agreeing,” Laura replied and this time the mirth sounded sincere.

James had to again force his eyes open, but this time his sight was nearly immediately clear, just the usual blurriness that was his norm without glasses. Laura was sting by his legs, one arm still braced against his legs and smiling down at him, Lewis was between him and the doctor and as James made eye contact with him, the other man sank into the chair beside him.

“Good god, man, can you not do this to me. I’m not sure my heart can take it.”

James swallowed against the scratchy feeling in his throat. Everything was raw and it felt enflamed, probably not helped by however long he hadn’t spoken. It was Laura who scooted closer and offered him some water. He thanked her with a quick nod and a smile and watched as she settled back down on the bed beside him, her hand immediately finding his ankle again. Usually James didn’t like to be touched, but somehow it didn’t perturb him now, the touch grounded it, made him aware of what was real and what wasn’t and he needed that.

“I’m sorry.” This time his voice sounded a bit smoother, but his throat still hurt, the more he talked and the longer he was awake the better it would be, at least James hoped that.

At his words, Lewis seemed to slump down deeper into the chair. “I should be the one to apologize. I should have stayed with you, no matter what I believed, I should have trusted you more.”

James startled at that, he could remember the fight – something he’d rather forget though – and knew that it was no one’s fault really. They’d both been frustrated, had let their emotions get away with them, it was bound to happen from time to time. And everything that happened after that could only be blame on Hayes.

It was weird to have this conversation lying down, everything was at an odd angle and James felt vulnerable, lying flat on his back with god knew how many different drugs running though his veins. He wasn’t ready for that talk yet, wasn’t ready to try to talk Lewis into accepting that he wasn’t responsible for any of this.

“Neither of you were at fault. If you knew what Hayes would have been capable of, you would have stopped him together,” Laura said. She was the sensible one, as always and James tapped her hip with his knee as another quiet thanks.

They both tended to hold themselves responsible for the things they had no control over. Neither of them could stop it, even though they were well aware of it. It was simply a part of their perfectionist personalities. Over the years, James had set himself increasingly high standards that were hard to reach and to hold up and he self-flagellated when he didn’t reach them. Lewis did the same, even if it was a bit more discreet than James and maybe not as excessive.

It helped to have someone like Laura around, who knew of their flaws and who set their minds right – whether it was with words or with gestures.

They really should be nicer to her.

“And I’m pretty sure neither you nor James are really up for that conversation. Give it more time and then I can bash your heads together without too many consequences. Besides Dr. Malloy is already shuffling his feet to do perform all kind of tests to check if there really is no damage hiding in that big brain of yours,” Laura said as she got up. Dr Mallory nodded in accordance with her words and James wanted to cringe at that.

“No please, save me from their mercy.” He barely tolerated doctors when he chose to go to them. Now he was forced and had no other choice but to go with their ministrations if he wanted to get better. That, somehow, made everything worse. He couldn’t wait to leave the hospital, it didn’t matter that he was starting to feel tired again, the sooner he was back in his own flat, the better.

“Sorry James, I don’t think you have a choice. And don’t even think you can sign yourself out before the doctors say so. You gave us quiet a scare.” Laura turned serious again and James knew that it had been bad. He could see it in their faces and knew it, because his own memories were hazy and his whole body felt stiff and numb. Not to mention the sheer amount of medical equipment that was around him and was still attached to him.

And because of Lewis, who was too silent; worry written clear on his face and in his stance. There were still a lot of words that needed to be said before everything would get back to normal. James was determined not to let too much time pass until that happened, but he could already feel the exhaustion tugging at him, even though he had only been awake for a few minutes. It would take time until he would be up to it, whether he want to accept that or not.

He was starting to fight against his drooping lids, blinking heavily to stay awake. At this, Lewis gave him an exhausted smile “Just go to sleep, lad. You need your rest and we’ll be back tomorrow.”

“I’ll be here.” James replied and at least received an amused snort in return.

His last view before he fell asleep again was Robbie and Laura leaving, her hand protectively on his shoulder.

+++

It had been a long gruelling month for Lewis, once he had gone back to work after James had woken up and after it was sure that he would recover completely. Lewis had worked with a range of DS and DCs, but none of them could read him like James did, who was able to follow his hunches and who found the oddest moment to quote some obscure, long dead poet.  He’d had to stop himself numerous times from turning around and waiting for exactly a comment like that.

All in all, he missed having James by his side. But today his Sergeant was finally returning to work. It was only desk duty for the next week or so and then they’d be back on rotation and everything would, hopefully, be back to normal.

Robbie longed for that ever since that fateful interrupted phone call. Those five fateful days were James had lain in a coma on life support still filled his nightmares. And even when James was starting to wake up, his worry didn’t ease, not when it took so long and not when it seemed like James didn’t recognize anybody. The words possible brain damaged haunted him during that time and stayed with him even as James slowly recovered.

Even as he started the irregular working hours of CID again, he had continued to visit James regularly. Laura did the same and he knew that Jean had also visited from time to time. James had always been glad to see either of them visiting, the normal routine of a hospital stay was boring and Robbie was all too happy to come, relieved to see James getting better and better with every passing day.

Once James had finally been released from the hospital, he had stayed at Robbie’s place for the first week. Both he and Laura had been worried about James staying on his own with his dominant arm in a sling, so they had conferred and had given James no other choice but to accept the offer. After that they had taken turns driving James to his physiotherapy, more than happy to see him recovering and regaining the use of his arm and lung.

The past few weeks had also been difficult for James for another reason entirely; the doctors had practically ordered him to stop smoking and Laura had enforced that rule with an iron fist. Sometimes it felt as if the nicotine withdrawal had been worse for James than the pain. But he had refrained and Robbie hoped that it would stick. Only time would tell though and Robbie would do his best to help James any way he could.

He still felt guilty for everything that had happened and while talking with James and Laura had helped somewhat, his mind and his heart were still at odds. It would get better, he knew that, the nightmares about James dying would decrease and even though they would never completely disappear, Robbie could deal with the odd interrupted night, used to them as he was.

There was a soft swish and the door opened.

“Sorry for being late sir, but Innocent caught me on the way in,” James said as he stepped into their shared office. He’d finally lost the sling two days ago after his last physiotherapy session, but he still held his arm and upper body a bit stiffer than normal. But seeing him back in a suit and back in here made up for it - even if the tie was slightly crooked.

Lewis walked around his desk and came to a stop in front of his tall Sergeant. James looked slightly critical and followed Lewis hands closely, as he reached up and straightened the tie.

“Can’t have you running around all dishevelled like that, what will the constables think?”

“Maybe that casual Friday came early?” James retorted with a quick twist of his lips.

Robbie had missed this, the quips with James and the immediately relaxed atmosphere that surrounded them. “Glad to have you back,” he said sincerely.

“Glad to be back,” James replied, also seriously, even if that didn’t hold for long. “Who else could you order around?”

“Many DS and DCs, who all fought to work with me notorious self and there wasn’t a word of sarcastic back-talk in sight. It was such a peaceful time,” returned Robbie and lent back against his desk, gleefully awaiting his Sergeants’ reply.

“It’s all for you own good, sir. Keeps you from floating off in a huff of hot air.”

“Get away with ye,” Robbie tried to fight of a smile from forming, knowing that he had half lost, “I have a lot of cold cases to cool you back down. “

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, sir.” With another smirk, James settled down at his desk and started to sift through his inbox.

Staring at the softly curved back of his bagman, Lewis let the smile form completely. The world had shifted back into place and whatever fate had in mind with their lives would have to wait for a bit longer.

 The End


End file.
